


a declaration of lust

by PaintedVanilla



Series: me and my love [15]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Closeted Character, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, High School, Horny Teenagers, Light Angst, Multi, Pining, Sexual Frustration, to some people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:30:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9073960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/pseuds/PaintedVanilla
Summary: Georges is not a stranger to the rumor mill; he’s had his own named wrung through it a few times, albeit not attached to Phillip’s. Not that he would mind having that information being passed around the school; he really wouldn’t mind at all. If Georges was sleeping with Philip Hamilton he’d probably be telling people himself; he’d probably scream it from the rooftops.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No revisions we post like men

One would assume that a child of the impossibly gorgeous Eliza Hamilton and the ruggedly handsome Alexander Hamilton had to be at least somewhat attractive. This would be an understatement, seeing as Philip Hamilton was a knockout; a 10/10; quite possibly the most attractive human being Georges de La Fayette has ever seen in his entire life.

Georges isn’t even sure how this happened; he’s known Philip since before he knew how to speak. He’s always been aware of his endless amount of freckles and how curly his hair is and his natural way with words. Despite this, he’s still somehow managing to be smitten with this boy he’s known his entire life because puberty decided to hit Phillip like a fucking train and make him that much more gorgeous of a human.

It was like one day everything was fine, and the next day his best friend was suddenly hot, and that just wasn’t fair. And what really wasn’t fair was how Georges wasn’t the only person to take notice; high school starts and suddenly half the student body is very aware of how pretty a certain Hamilton was, and suddenly the aforementioned Hamilton is kissing a lot more people than he previously was.

The reality of it is that Phillip is just like his dad – bisexual as hell and very good at getting into other people’s pants. This wasn’t exactly a secret; the rumor mill has been churning out material about Phillip since freshman year, and now that they’re juniors the only thing he’s done is provided the mill with more material to churn out. Georges is not deaf; he listens when Phillip’s name pops up and he listens to the names it pops up with. The names come and go and often repeat, and the list seems to go on and on.

Georges is not a stranger to the rumor mill; he’s had his own named wrung through it a few times, albeit not attached to Phillip’s. Not that he would mind having that information being passed around the school; he really wouldn’t mind at all. If Georges was sleeping with Philip Hamilton he’d probably be telling people himself; he’d probably scream it from the rooftops.

He’s smitten; he’s so far gone he probably couldn’t escape this if he wanted to. And just because Georges is a horny teenager doesn’t mean he can’t be a romantic at heart. Would he like to nail Phillip so hard he cries? Yes. Would he also like to give him a bouquet of roses and spend an evening telling him all the reasons he’s a beautiful individual? Also yes. Because Phillip deserves both, and so much more.

“Do you have your English textbook with you?”

Phillip’s words snap Georges out of his trance almost violently; he turns in his seat to look at Phillip, who’s stretched out on his bed putting things back into his backpack. When Georges doesn’t answer right away, he elaborates, “Remember we have that short story we have to read? I forgot my English book in my locker and the online textbook hasn’t been working for me.”

Phillip looks up at him, waiting for an answer, still kind of chewing on his pen (and isn’t that distracting, because the rumor mill has plenty of things to say about that mouth). Georges blinks once, twice, then finally remembers how to hold a conversation, “Oh – um – yeah.” He shakes his head, “It should be in my bag.”

His bag that’s lying at his feet, he realizes now; he kicks it towards Phillip to avoid looking stupid. It makes it halfway between where Georges is sat at his desk and his bed, and Phillip raises an eyebrow at him but retrieves the bag without any fuss. A moment of digging reveals the book and he flops back down on the bed, opening it up and flipping through the pages.

“Thanks, man.” He says nonchalantly, popping the pen back in his mouth and continuing to gnaw at it while he reads.

“No problem.” Georges says, forcing himself to look away.

…

This problem has been a problem for quite some time now; teenage hormones and the constant presence of a beautiful individual tend to create problems quite quickly. And maybe Georges suffers a little bit when Phillip casually mentions past affairs. Maybe the thought of other people with Phillip in bed is the tiniest bit nauseating. Maybe watching him walk of campus with Patsy Jefferson casually, like they’re not going out to her car to have sex, sets something off inside him that feels strangely similar to jealousy.

He can’t be jealous over what he doesn’t have, but he envies anyone who has had him. He’d like a piece, but admitting that could likely ruin everything. He can’t even imagine the devastation he’d feel if Philip turned him down, especially since turning people down doesn’t seem to be something Phillip does often.

So instead he nods at Phillip and Patsy as they pass him on the stairs and Georges takes the long way home, just in case he were to see something that would hurt his heart more than it probably should. And when he gets home he gives his mom a kiss on the cheek and asks her how her day was and attempts to forget while he listens to her.

“How was your day, Georgie?” Adrienne adds over her shoulder when she’s finished with her detailed explanation.

Georges shrugs, “It wasn't bad.” He tells her in French, draping himself over the couch and burying his face in one of the throw pillows.

She frowns at him, making her way over to where he’s lying and touching his shoulder; he jerks, lifting his face out of the pillow to look at her, _“_ Yes _, maman?”_

“Is there something wrong?” she asks in French; she looks at him with a large amount of concern, which makes him feel guilty. He stands from the couch, putting the throw pillow back where it was before and leaning to give her another kiss on the cheek.

“No, _maman.”_ He tells her gently, continuing in French, “Just a bad mood, I promise. I’m okay. Very happy.” He smiles to prove it, and she smiles back at him, returning the cheek kiss.

“Good,” she says, “I like my boy happy.”

She pulls away, glancing over him before giving him a light shove, “Now go clean yourself up and get done what needs to be done. We have guests coming over tonight.”

 _“Mamaaaaan.”_ He whines, but he does it with a smile as he turns to pick his bag up.

…

“Can I escape from the children in your room?”

Georges jumps when he hears Phillip’s voice; he wheels around in his desk chair to see him leaning against his doorframe and grinning. Georges heart skips a beat; fuck, his mom had meant _The Hamilton’s_ when she said “we’re having guests” earlier. If Georges had known that he would’ve taken a shower and changed and probably put on just the tiniest bit of cologne. Not to impress Phillip, just to… prepare himself for being around company.

Georges recovers from his initial shock pretty seamlessly, though, “Are your siblings here?”

Phillip sighed, making his way into Georges’ room and throwing himself on his bed, “Even the baby.” He smiled at Georges, but it looked more like a wince.

Georges rolled his chair closer to the bed, “The baby is what – three?”

“Two,” Phillip said, burying his face in his arms and disappearing for a moment; when he sat back up his hair bounced prettily around his face. Georges gulps and looks away.

Phillip continues, “My mom is pregnant.”

Georges looks back at him in shock, “Didn't they _just_ adopt William?”

Phillip looks like he wants to laugh at that, but he just gives him a smile that looks more like a wince, “She told me after I got home. Patsy dropped me off after uh…” he pauses, “we were _studying.”_

Georges rolls his eyes, “Studying for what, sex ed.?” He snaps, a bit more harshly than he intended to, but Philip just snorts, “She dropped you off at your house? I feel like you’re begging her dad to kill you. Or your dad to kill her dad. Somebody is gonna end up killing somebody.”

Phillip shrugs, “I wholeheartedly believe it’s worth it.” He says, and Georges shoves him, “What! Okay, listen, Patsy Jefferson is _hot.”_

“Would you have seven kids with her?” Georges asks, and Phillip pulls a face.

“I wouldn’t have seven kids with anybody.” He mutters, but then he perks back up, “Oh, by the way, Angie is gonna wanna sit by you during dinner.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Georges asks, giving Phillip a weird look.

He grins, “Oh, no reason, besides that fact that she has a huge crush on you.” He says, and Georges stands up out of his chair and walks to the other side of the bed, running his hands through his hair and staring at the ceiling.

“Why would you tell me that, ever?” he asks, looking back at Phillip, who’s still smiling ear to ear.

“Just thought you’d like to know.” He says happily.

Georges throws himself on the bed next to him, “I’m so gay, Pip.” He says softly.

“I know,” Phillip reminds him, “I’m just saying, if you think she’s being extra annoying, that’s why.” He pauses, “I mean if someone had a crush on _me,_ I’d want to know.”

Georges almost chokes on his own spit at that, but before he can process he’s being called to from downstairs, “Georges! Can you please comet set the table!"

 _“Oui, maman!”_ he shouts back, jumping off his bed and not waiting to see whether or not Philip is going to follow him.

…

Phillip’s seating predictions are right on the target; Angie practically kicks James in the shin for rights to the seat next to Georges. Throughout the entire dinner Georges can feel himself getting more and more nervous, from the combined pressure of Angie staring at him and what Phillip said. Does Philip know? Georges has never told anyone how he feels about him; is he being too obvious? Can Philip tell? Does Phillip _care?_

He attempts to help with the dishes after dinner to keep from having to talk to anyone, but Adrienne shoos him out of the kitchen. He sulks his way into the living room, where the multitude of the Hamilton children hits him in the face as John and James run past him, nearly knocking him down.  
He finds Philip hiding on the staircase and sits down next to him, “You were right about your sister, I think.” he says, and Philip snorts.

“Of course I was, I heard her telling her little friends about it.” Philip says, not looking up from his phone; after a moment he glances at Georges, who cocks his eyebrow. Philip rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, I can hear everything in that house, the walls are so thin.”

“Oh, then you must’ve known your parents were expecting for a while, then.” Georges says, and laughs when Philip winces.

“Don’t say that - don’t ever say that again.” he mutters, shoving his phone in his pocket and putting his face in his hands, “That’s gross - I don’t even wanna think about it.”

“Your parents had sex to conceive you, Philip, it’s God’s way.” Georges presses, and Philip shakes his head, “What - didn’t your parents ever give you the talk?”

“They did,” Philip confirms, “My dad did - don’t remind me. I know people have sex, Georges, I just don’t wanna think about my parents doing it.”

“I’m sure your parents were young and hot at some point.” Georges says, and Philip stands up and walks up the remainder of the stairs, leaving Georges alone at the bottom; he follows him, “What? You’re gonna have kids one day, and I’m gonna corner them and force them to hear about how you banged Patsy Jefferson in her car in the school parking lot.”

“You’re not gonna do that - I will actually call the police if you do that.” Philip says as he opens the door to Georges’ room, “And we moved her car, dumbass, do you know how easy it would've been to get caught if we hadn’t?”

They both laugh, and Georges is desperate to forget the gross feeling bubbling up in his stomach when he thinks about Philip in close quarters with anyone else.

Philip throws himself back onto Georges’ bed, and he rolls his eyes as he closes the door, “If you keep doing that you’re gonna break my bed, and then I’m gonna have to talk to my dad about that and he’s gonna have some questions.”

Philip giggles, “Tell him we were fucking.”

Georges bites the inside of his cheek, “What a wonderful way to come out to my parents.”

Philip laughs harder, “Hey dad my bed is broken, because I was having sex with Philip Hamilton. Also I’m gay, hope you don’t mind.”

“I think I’ll go downstairs and tell him that right now, thanks.” Georges says, and Philip shakes his head.

“We gotta have sex first.” he says, rolling over and spreading out on the bed, “Take me.”

Georges rolls his eyes and turns away to hide how hard he’s blushing, “Shut up.”

“It’s the only way, Georges.” Philip says, “We can break your bed, you can have the best sex of your life, and come out to your dad all within the hour.”

Georges turns back around to face him, “Less than an hour? That sounds pretty weak for the best sex of my life.”

Philip blushes, but then he grins, “Patsy gives good reviews.”

Before Georges can throw up in response to that comment, the door to his room opens and he jumps.

“C’mon, Pip, we gotta go.” Alex says, “Your mom already has Angie out the door so if we don’t leave now we’re gonna get left here.”

“Be down in a sec, pops.” Philip says, sitting up on the bed; Alex nods at them before disappearing down the hallway. Philip starts to get out of his bed, and Georges turns away to mess with random things on his desk to keep him occupied. He’s about to run through the standard thanks for coming, but when he turns around Philip is very close; before he can react, he gently grabs the fabric over George’ waist and leans in very close to his ear, _“_ Maybe next time we can break the bed, huh? _”_

He’s close enough that Georges can feel his breath on his skin, and he shudders, blushing hard at his words. Philip pulls away like nothing happened, though; he just smiles innocently and leaves his room.

He feigns a headache and goes to bed early, laying in the dark trying to ignore a very different feeling in the pit of his stomach.

…

“Georges has a headache, so he’s gone to bed.” Adrienne says in French when she enters their room, and Lafayette hums; when he doesn’t respond with a coherent answer she frowns, “A headache probably caused by Philip Hamilton.”

Lafayette sighs and closes his book, “My love,” he says gently, “When are you going to stop blaming all of our sons problems on Philip Hamilton?”

“When Philip Hamilton let’s go of his grip on our son’s heart.” Adrienne snaps, shutting the door and making her way to the bathroom. When she goes inside she leaves the door cracked open, an obvious indication that this conversation is not over.

Lafayette rubs his eyes, “My love,” he tries again, “You’re choosing to blame a headache on a boy.”

“He doesn’t have a headache, Gilbert!” Adrienne says, “I thought that much was obvious - something else is clearly upsetting him and he doesn’t want to talk about it, so he’s pretending to have a headache so we won’t bother him!”

Lafayette blinks, “Okay.” he mutters, “Can you explain to me how you’ve identified Philip as the source of his troubles?”

“Every time he’s around Philip Hamilton, he ends up acting the same way.” Adrienne announces pointedly, “He’s all mopey and sad and walks around the house looking like his heart just got dragged through a war zone.”

Before Lafayette can respond, the faucet turns on, presumably so Adrienne can wash her face, so there’s no use in trying to continue the conversation while they can’t hear each other. Lafayette takes a moment to think about it, setting his book down and moving from his chair to the closet so he can change.

He’s just pulling the covers down when the water is turned off and Adrienne comes out of the bathroom with a clean face, wearing one of her pretty nightgowns. Lafayette smiles at her, but she doesn’t return it; instead she stands at the side of the bed with her arms crossed.

“Our son is in love with someone he can’t have, Gilbert.” she says seriously, and Lafayette almost snorts.

“There’s no way Phillip Hamilton is straight.” he tells her, climbing into bed; when she doesn’t follow, he tries again, “Adrienne,” he says gently, “my Adrienne, why are you so worried? Georges knows how to handle himself, and if he wants Philip that badly he’ll do something about it.”

Adrienne looks away stubbornly, “How do you know?”

“I’m married to you, aren’t I?” Lafayette asks; her face softens and she sighs.

“Maybe we should talk to him about it.” she tries to suggest, but Lafayette shakes his head.

“He hasn’t told us he’s gay, yet, my love,” he reminds her, “we have to wait for him to come to us.”

Adrienne pouts, and Lafayette hold his hand out to her, “Come to bed, my love, please _.”_ he murmurs, and she finally smiles for him, lifting the covers on her side of the bed and climbing underneath them. He turns the lamp by his bed off before taking her into his arms, giving her a kiss goodnight and closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I live for comments so if you'd like to say something about the fic that would actually make my life (｡^‿^｡)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow um so first of all thank you to everyone for your kind words???? Y'all are so sweet. You guys had me blushing and I am so excited to continue this fic and I hope you guys like it. Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading!! (✿◠‿◠)
> 
> No revisions we post like men

Georges stays home all weekend.

He debates texting Philip the entire time; just a quick question, _hey, are you serious about wanting to have sex with me?_ But that could end badly in a number of ways; Philip could be joking, he could be serious, and either way the question would sound stupid. _Of course I wanna have sex with you, are you dumb? Why would I wanna have sex with you, are you crazy?_

He hides in his room for as long as he can before it becomes suspicious; he drags himself downstairs a little before ten to find both his parents sitting in the living room with mugs of coffee. His mom notices him first and motions for him to come sit on the couch with them.

“How’s your head?” she asks in French as he sits down.

He looks up at her, “What?”

“You said you had a headache last night before you went to bed.” she reminds him.

“Oh, yeah,” he pauses, “It’s uh - it’s better now.”

“Good.” Adrienne says, pulling him closer to her and giving him a kiss on his forehead, “I think there’s still coffee in the kitchen if you want any.”

“I’m not really in a coffee mood.” Georges’ huffs, folding himself back into the far corner of the couch.

Adrienne frowns, and before she can stop herself, she asks, “Is everything okay?”

Lafayette reaches out and takes her gently by her arm, pulling her back into his side; she keeps her eyes on her son the entire time.

Georges sighs, “I’m okay, I’m just really tired,” he lies, “I think my headache is coming back.”

“Do you want an Aspirin?” Lafayette asks, at the same instant Adrienne tries to say, “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Georges stands suddenly, “I’m going to take a shower.” he says quickly, making his way back upstairs without another word.

Lafayette leans over to whisper in his wife’s ear, “One of these days you’re going to pressure him into saying something he doesn’t want us to know.”

Adrienne elbows him softly, “I’m trying to be a good mom.”

“Okay well, he doesn’t need a good mom right now, he needs a mom who will leave him alone because he’s a teenager and he’s probably just sexually frustrated.”

Adrienne moves to elbow him again, but he stops her with his free hand, “My love, I think you’ve gotten the point across that if he needs to talk about something, he can come to you. I don’t think he’s ready to talk about anything at the moment.”

Adrienne pouts, but she doesn’t argue with him; which means Lafayette is right and she just doesn’t want to admit it.

…

Georges uses the shower to multitask; he cleans himself and he also jacks off. To relieve stress. This is obviously the only reason he does so and not because he has pent up sexual frustration regarding one Philip Hamilton.

When he’s finished with that, he ties his hair up and gets dressed, even though he knows he won’t be leaving the house today. He knows he has to finish an English paper, but he decides to procrastinate by stripping the sheets off his bed and gathering up the rest of his dirty clothes. He takes them downstairs so he can run a load of laundry to waste time.

Nobody is using the washing machine, so he puts his sheets in first and sorts his clothes; while he’s doing so, his mom comes into the laundry room with her own clothes to find him sitting on the floor.

She pauses in the doorway, “Did you enjoy your shower?” she asks, and he jumps.

“Er - I guess, yeah.” He says awkwardly.

“Are you running a load?” she continues, and he nods.

“I just have sheets in there right now.” he tells her, “But I’m sorting my darks and lights.”

“Would you run mine, too, chou chou?” she asks, holding the basket out.

He nods, _“_ Sure. _”_ he says, and she smiles, setting her basket on the floor.

 _“Merci,_ Georgie.” she says as she leaves.

…

Laundry doesn’t kill as much time as he wants it to; he puts clothes in the washing machine and he puts his sheets in the dryer and when those are done he shifts darks to the dryer and whites into the washer, and goes back upstairs to put his sheets back on. His laptop stares at him while he makes the bed, so he reluctantly brings it with him when he goes back downstairs.

He bullshits almost half a paragraph while he’s waiting for the darks to dry, but once they’re finished he abandons the English paper in favor of ~~procrastinating~~ folding clothes. He brings his mom's darks into her room and puts his darks away, before pretending to mess with his paper while the whites finish drying.

He’s halfway through folding the whites when his phone buzzes in his back pocket; he pauses, debating whether or not he should pull it out and look at it. He finishes folding the shirt in his hands and sets it in his pile before fishing his phone out.

 **Pip** : _hey_

Georges gulps; he sets his phone down on the table face down, and then picks it right back up and stares at the message. Why is he being so stupid? He can hold a conversation whether Philip wants to have sex or not.

 **To Pip** : _hey_

The response is almost instant:

 **Pip** : _wyd_

 **To Pip** : _folding laundry_

 **Pip** : _nerd_

 **Pip** : _I’m working on that dumb paper_

 **To Pip** : _that’s why I’m doing laundry_

 **Pip** : _ugh my life_

 **Pip** : _Mrs Smith is the worst teacher I s2g_

 **Pip** : _she failed my last essay bc she didn’t agree with my opinion_

 **To Pip** : _??????_

 **Pip** : _right????_

 **Pip** : _anyways_

 **Pip** : _there’s other things I’d rather be doing_

 **Pip** : _~~~_

Georges sets his phone on the table, walks all the way around it to process, then picks his phone back up to make sure he didn’t imagine that. The message is still there when he unlocks his phone, and he bites his lip. What are words? How does one speak English, exactly? Georges can’t seem to remember.

 **To Pip** : _hahaha what??_

The little bubble pops up to show that Philip is typing and Georges turns his phone off again; he’s never going to be ready to return to this conversation. His phone buzzes and he opens it against his better judgement.

 **Pip** : _I’d rather be doing french_

 **Pip** : _maybe you can help with that?_

Georges lets out the breath he was holding and types a reply.

 **To Pip** : what do you need help with?

Philip takes his time to respond, so Georges goes back to folding laundry. He gets through almost everything left in the pile when his phone buzzes on the table; he read the notification and finishes folding the pants he’s holding.

 **Pip** : _I was hoping u could help me with this?_

 **Pip** : _Attachment: 1 Image_

Georges unlocks his phone and immediately slams it back down on the table. That’s a dick pic. Well - it’s not a _dick pic_ but Philip is obviously hard and in nothing but sweatpants and Georges can’t do this in the _laundry room._

He can’t even begin to think about how he’s going to respond to that - albeit being a dream come true Georges genuinely does not know how to answer. He shoves his phone in his pocket and grabs both piles of laundry; he practically shoves his mom's’ pile into her arms when he passes her in the hallway and ignores the strange look she gives him as best he can. When he gets to his room he manages to open and close his door, lock it, throw his clothes on his desk and throw himself on his bed within five seconds.

He unlocks his phone to see the typing bubble is back, and he holds his breath waiting to see what he’s going to say.

 **Pip** : _too much?_

 **To Pip** : _I thought you wanted to work on your français?_

 **Pip** : _oh i do ;))_

…

Georges is pretty sure he’s entered the twilight zone; he’s definitely entered _something_ because this was not happening this time yesterday. Yesterday the most likely person to send him nudes was the kid in his AP Biology class from two years ago, but Georges hasn’t exactly seen him in a few months. Hence why this is so _weird;_ Philip is suddenly interested and that sets off a strange mix of excitement and anxiety in Georges’ heart.

Does Philip know? How could he have found out? Georges has never told anyone how he feels about him, so how could he know? Is this just Philip moving on his own feelings? That sounds almost impossible; he was having sex with Patsy Jefferson this time yesterday.

That sets off a bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach; he ignores it.

Philip resigns himself to actually working on his English paper when they finish... talking, and Georges decides to do the same. When he recovers. He doesn’t usually do this twice in one day.

He eventually gets out of bed and pulls his jeans back on; he unlocks his door and makes to go downstairs to get his laptop, but when he opens the door Lafayette is standing right there with it in his hand.

He raises an eyebrow, then holds it out to Georges, “You left this in the laundry room.”

Georges blushes harder than he’d prefer to, “Thanks.” he says quietly, taking it from his dad and sinking back into his room. Lafayette nods at him and makes his way back down the hallway and Georges shuts the door.

He sets his laptop on his desk and stares at it; he really should finish that paper.

…

Georges’ phone buzzes in his back pocket Sunday night while he’s helping his mom with the dishes. She doesn’t notice the first two times, but she gives him a look when it keeps going off.

“Someone’s popular.” she comments, and he blushes.

“Someone must’ve added me to a group chat.” he tells her, “I’ll uh - I’ll mute it.” he says, pulling his phone out and unlocking it.

It’s not a group chat:

 **Pip** : _I really wanna kiss you_

 **Pip** : _your lips look really soft_

 **Pip** _: I really want you to pick me up and pin me against whatever you want_

 **Pip** : _and kiss me as hard as u can_

 **Pip** : _not just on my mouth_

 **Pip** : _i want you to kiss me everywhere_

 **Pip** : _could we do that?_

Georges is pretty sure he’s going to catch on fire he’s blushing so hard; he mutes Philip so he can focus on the dishes and not popping a boner in the middle of the kitchen and shoves his phone back in his pocket.

His mom doesn’t even look up, “Group chat?”

“Huh?” Georges asks, “Oh - oh yeah, yeah - group chat.” he clears his throat, going back to the dishes and trying very hard not to think about it.

When the dishes are done he escapes to his room, locks his door and fishes his phone back out; there’s no more new messages, so Georges unmutes him and thinks about how to respond to that. How exactly can he respond to that? He reads and rereads the texts; Philip is going to kill him. Philip is actually going to kill him and Georges isn’t even mad about it.

 **To Pip** : _I want to kiss every freckle on your face_

 **Pip** : _I could arrange that ;))_

…

 **Pip** : _i have freckles on my back too_

 **To Pip** : _I’ll kiss those_

 **Pip** : _you’re weird_

 **Pip** : _but i wouldnt mind_

 **Pip** : _they're all over my shoulders_

 **To Pip** : _god damn_

 **To Pip** : _i really want to kiss you everywhere_

 **Pip** : _i really want you to kiss me everywhere_

 **Pip** : _and as much as i really like what we have going here_

 **Pip** : _i'd really like if you made good on these promises_

 **To Pip** : _oh i absolutely will_

 **To Pip** : _im going to kiss every freckle on your body and then I’m going to ravish you_

 **Pip** : _baaaaabe_

Georges bites his lip; this is real right? He didn’t get run over by a car and is now in a coma having all his dreams comes true is he? Even if he is this may be worth it. Philip. Philip is getting off thinking of him; Philip is _thinking_ of him. Philip wants him. And Georges wants him, too. Georges wants him so bad; every piece of him.

 **To Pip** : _hey_

 **To Pip** : _can i ask you something?_

 **Pip** : _sure babe_

 **To Pip** : _is this like a thing now_

 **To Pip** : _like_

 **To Pip** : _us?_

 **Pip** : _only if you want it to be_

 **To Pip** : _i do_

 **Pip** : _then we are_

Georges grins; he does more than grins, he beams. He stares at the texts on his phone, he puts his phone down, he picks it back up, he turns it off and back on and the texts stay there. They don’t go away. The bubble pops up to show that Philip is typing again and Georges holds his breath.

 **Pip** : _I’m gonna go to bed_

 **Pip** : _night babe_

 **To Pip** : _okay_

 **To Pip** : _sweet dreams_

 **To Pip** : _babe_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I live for comments, they make my life and I can basically guarantee I will blush if you say something nice to me. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! (｡^‿^｡)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bwaaaaa okay y'all are so sweet I'm glad you guys are liking this fic!! I'm loving writing it!! I'm so sorry this chapter took SO LONG to get out I've been having writers block, but I'm almost done with the next one so that should come along very soon! Thank y'all so much for your sweet words they make my day so much brighter (´∀｀）
> 
> This will probably be a short chapter but I promise I'll make up for it with the next one (´ｖ｀)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! And also @Ashleigh if you write smut in the comments I will kill you when school gets back in ♥ԅ(ˆ⌣ˆԅ) love you boo thanks for reading
> 
> No revisions we post like men

Georges has seen heaven and hell, simultaneously, in the form of Philip sitting on the other side of the room in chemistry. He’s gorgeous; he wears his hair down all week and he sits there chewing on his pencil watching Georges. Every time he looks up, Philip was his eyes on him, and every time Georges almost chokes.

They have lectures Monday through Wednesday, and Philip looks at the teacher a grand total of ten times, tops. When his eyes aren’t on his notes, they’re on Georges, and when Georges looks at him he grins, or he winks, or he does something with the pencil in his mouth that suggests things that are not school appropriate. Georges always blushes and returns to his notes, but he’s quite possibly having the time of his life. He may be dying, but he’s still having a good time, because Philip is the one causing it, therefore he doesn’t really mind. He doesn’t really care what Philip wants to do with him, because Georges very well may be crossing the line from smitten to in love.

Philip corners him at his locker after school on Thursday, “How do you feel about the chem quiz?”

“I thought it was pretty easy,” Georges tells him nonchalantly, “Although, I doubt you feel the same way, since you’ve been looking at me more than your notes.”

“Aww, you noticed.” Philip says fondly, leaning closer so their sides are pressed together and wrapping an arm around his shoulder; he tilts his head up so his mouth is closer to Georges ear, and he whispers, “A little birdy told me your parents are going out of town this evening.”

Georges glups, “They are.” he mutters, and Philip hums.

“Have the house to yourself for the weekend, then?” he asks, and Georges nods, smiling; Philip continues, “Plans?” he twirls a lock of Georges’ hair around his finger, “Thinking of doing anything?”

“You, maybe.” Georges breaths, and Philip preens, so he keeps going, “I could make good on that promise - ”

“What promise?” Philip presses, smiling like a fox.

“I’m going to kiss you everywhere,” Georges tells him, “and then I’m going to ravish you.”

“Looking forward to it.” Philip whispers, before leaning in and pressing an open mouthed kiss to his cheek; he peels himself off Georges and disappears down the hallway.

…

Georges can’t concentrate on anything on Friday besides the way Philip keeps looking at him in chemistry. His hair is up in a ponytail today, and he’s wearing what he normally wears to school - a t-shirt and a flannel and jeans - but he somehow looks more beautiful than usual. Maybe it’s the knowledge that Georges is going to take him apart after school.

Philip sneaks up on him at his locker again and presses himself into his side, “Hi.” he says simply, and Georges grins.

“Hi.” he returns, shutting his locker and throwing his bag on his shoulder, “Ready to go?”

“Oh, I’ve been ready all day, baby.” Philip says softly; Georges bites his lip and smiles.

Philip loops his arm through his and they walk out of school together; Georges kind of wishes they would run into Martha Jefferson on their way out so he can rub this in from a distance, but she’s nowhere to be seen. They do see Frances Laurens and Theodosia Burr talking on the stairs on their way to the parking lot tho, and Georges waves when they walk by; they both wave back enthusiastically.

The ride to Georges house is spent in comfortable silence; halfway there Philip stretches out in the passenger seat and leans over, resting his hand on Georges’ thigh and smiling, “You’re really hot.”

He blushes, “Thank you?” he says, although it sounds like more of a question and Philip laughs, “Sorry I - I don’t really know how to respond to that.”

“You’re cute, too.” is all Philip says, before removing his hand and keeping them to himself for the rest of the car ride so Georges can concentrate.

…

Georges hasn’t had sex with anybody in a couple of months; he spent most of his summer in France around his mom's side of the family, so hook-ups were a bit risky considering her parents and her sisters were more conservative than she was. Before that, the last person he might’ve laid hands on was the guy in his history class sophomore year whose name he can’t remember at the current moment because he’s trying to re-lock his front door while Philip clings to him.

 _“Geoooooooorges.”_ he whines, and Georges abandons the key in the door as soon as it clicks and spins around to face him.

Philip doesn’t waste any time; his lips are soft when he kisses Georges and he reaches up to place his hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer to him while they’re still stood in the entry hall. Georges’ knees almost buckle, but he kisses him back, trying to match the pace Philip is setting; it’s a quick one, because he pulls back just barely and bites Georges’ bottom lip, before letting it go, “Are we going to stand in the entry hall forever or are you gonna show me to the bedroom?”

“Fucking hell, Pip.” Georges groans, leaning back in to capture his lips in an open mouthed kiss; Philip indulges him for just a moment before pulling back again.

“Kiss me in your bed.” he whines, and Georges pushes him backwards towards the staircase.

“The faster you walk the sooner I get to ravish you.” he tells him, and Philip smiles.

…

Georges wakes the next morning to soft light streaming in through the windows, and the first thing he sees is Philip laying next to him in a heap of curly hair and freckles; Georges smiles, reaching out and pulling him closer to him, and Philip stirs.

He reaches a hand up to rub his eyes, blinking wearily at Georges before smiling at him, “Hey,” he says quietly, his voice hoarse, and Georges hums.

“Hi,” he says fondly, leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips; when he pulls away Philip is looking at him strangely, but his eyes are shining to Georges doesn’t question it.

Philip rolls over onto his back and stretches, before turning over and snuggling into Georges’ side and falling back asleep. Georges pushes his hair out of his face and watches him for a moment, before placing a kiss to his forehead and closing his eyes, holding Philip close to him and drifting back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh this chapter is quite short for me, it was only three pages in the google doc (T⌓T) I usually have a higher word count than a measly eleven hundred, but the next chapter should definitely be longer.
> 
> And yes you did read that correctly! There will be two more chapters! Because I think every fic needs a good dose of angst, don't you? (*・∀-)☆
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! If you leave a comment, money back guarantee that I will blush and be very happy and embarrassed. I should have the next chapter out later tonight! (*ゝω・)ﾉ


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No revisions we post like men

The following Monday is the best day of Georges’ life for a whopping twenty minutes.

He wakes up in a good mood. He gets ready in a good mood. He leaves the house in a good mood. He gets to school in a good mood. Everything is _good_ until he gets to the cafeteria before class starts and runs into Lucy Jefferson.

She’s younger than he is, but her sister is a junior therefor Lucy knows _everything_ and she’s standing by the door when Georges walks in. She doesn’t look up at him until he asks, “Have you seen Philip Hamilton?” and she pauses, wrinkles her nose, and turns her phone off.

“Last I saw him was on Saturday,” she tells him, and Georges frowns.

“Where did you see him on Saturday?” he asks, and Lucy rolls her eyes.

“My sister's room,” she tells him, but before Georges can ask another question she continues, “like - our parents weren’t home, so obviously that’s an excuse, right?” she asks bitterly, “I swear to god, in the past three months if those two have any spare time they’re having sex. I’d almost go as far as saying they’re dating, but they can’t hold an actual conversation without making out or arguing.”

“They’re not dating,” Georges says impulsively, “Philip is dating - ” he catches himself, though. He catches himself because he was about to say _me_ but there’s something very wrong here. All week, every interaction he held with Philip had been sexual. Implying sex. Looking forward to sex. Having sex. There wasn’t anything besides sex. That was all there was with Philip - if your name got wrung through the rumor mill attached to his, you had sex. Philip didn’t date; he was a friend with benefits with half the people he knew.

“...Philip isn’t dating anybody.” Georges tells Lucy, because he’s not.

He and Philip aren’t a _thing_ , they’re just a thing. A single intimate moment that would probably snowball into more intimate moments because that was how Philip did _things._ But they would still end up sitting together at lunch and making stupid jokes because that’s the way it’s been with Theodosia Burr and Frances Laurens since freshman year. Theo and Philip still argue over who’s going to get a better grade on the test, Frances and Philip still go to the park to play baseball, and Georges and Philip are still going to see each other when his family comes over for dinner.

Lucy opens her mouth to say something, but Georges turns and leaves the cafeteria; he’s not interested in hearing anything else about Philip’s sex life. In fact, he’s not interested in hearing anything else about Philip at all. Philip can suck a dick. Philip can fuck off, forever, and never speak to Georges again because surely he must have known. He must’ve had some kind of idea of how Georges felt about him otherwise he wouldn’t have made a move in the first place.

As Georges rounds the corner from the cafeteria onto the breezeway, he sees Philip, who sees him, smiles, reaches his hand out and runs it along Georges’ arm, winks, and continues on his merry way with Patsy Fucking Jefferson on his other arm.

Georges freezes; he can’t do this right now, or maybe ever, but he’s so angry he feels it in every piece of him. Philip looks so content with himself, with his little network; he could probably text almost anyone in school right now and have someone to fuck when the final bell rang. He has his pick of guys and girls - anyone he wants, and now Georges is just another piece of that. Just another warm body to pick out of the masses when he’s in the mood. Just another mouth to kiss when he’s feeling particularly lonely.

It comes out before Georges can stop it, _“FUCK YOU PHILIP HAMILTON!”_

The entire breezeway slows down; it doesn’t stop, but kids definitely want to know what’s going on. Philip and Patsy both turn back at the same time with confusion on their faces, and seeing that look on his face sets Georges’ entire body on fire with anger and shame.

With almost the entire breezeway watching him, he grits his teeth, turns, and leaves.

…

Theodosia Burr and Frances Laurens are in the process of exchanging notes when they hear Georges scream. Frances looks up, and although Theo heard him she doesn’t pry her eyes away from the sheet of paper in her hands quite as quickly.

“That sounded like Georges.” Frances says, and Theo hums, “Theo - I’m pretty sure that was Georges.”

“Pip fucked something up, I’m sure.” is all Theo offers her, and Frances rolls her eyes.

“I’m going to talk to Philip,” she says, and Theo just hums again; Frances shoves her notes haphazardly in her bag and stands. When Theo doesn’t follow her, she pulls the notes out of her hands.

“Hey!” she cries, looking up at Frances.

“When I said ‘I’ it was implying ‘we.'” she says, and Theo huffs but follows reluctantly.

When they get to the edge of the courtyard that bleeds into the breezeway, Georges is just running past them; before they can react he’s though the courtyard and out one of the side gates, so there’s really no use in following.

They find Philip in the breezeway near the entrance to the cafeteria arguing with Patsy Jefferson. Theo goes ahead of Frances, looping her arm around Patsy's and pulling her away from Philip, which abruptly ends the argument, “Can we steal him for just a minute?” Theo asks, and Patsy frowns but nods anyways. She throws Philip one last glare before she turns and makes her way back down the hallway.

“Pip.” France says, grabbing his arm; he looks down at her with a face of pure confusion and she continues, “What did you do to Georges?”

“I don’t know!” Philip exclaims, and Frances rolls her eyes; she’s about to say something when the warning bell rings and Theo gives her a look.

“We don’t have time to talk about this before class.” Frances says, and Theo nods; she’s in the process of turning away when Frances continues, “Theodosia,” she says, and Theo gives her another look, “I’m cashing in that favor you owe me - we’re skipping first period.”

Theodosia wrinkles her nose but doesn’t protest, so Frances drags Philip by his arm towards the gate at the end of the breezeway and Theo follows reluctantly.

“Let me ask you a question,” Frances says once they’re out of the gate, “Did you have sex with Georges?”

Philip looks down at her, “Yes?”

“Oh boy.” Theo says from behind them, and Frances huffs.

“Did you have sex with anybody after that?” she continues, and Philip nods.

“Yeah? With Patsy, we - ”

“Jesus Christ Philip.” Theo mutters, and Frances smacks his arm.

“Ow! What was that - ” he starts to say, but Theo shushes him from behind and Frances stops walking; her grip on Philip’s arm causes him to get jerked back.

“Okay,” she says, “Philip? I’m going to let you in on a little secret _.”_ Frances looks around to make sure no one else is there besides Theo, and then she gestures for Philip to come closer. He leans in and she moves towards his ear and takes a breath, “GEORGES IS IN LOVE WITH YOU.” she screams, and he flinches backwards.

 _“Ow!_ What?! No he’s not!” he protests, and Frances shoves him.

“Have you ever looked at him!?” she snaps, and Theo buts in before Philip can answer: “Ever?”

“He has hearts in his eyes!”

“Hearts.”

“Every time he looks at you!”

“Every time.”

“He’s got it bad.”

_“Bad.”_

Philip gulps, “Oh.”

“YEAH BITCH.” Frances shouts, shoving him again, “You fucked up!”

“Fucked up bad.” Theo agrees.

“You probably broke his heart - ”

“ - shattered it - ”

“ - like smashing glass - ”

“ - and watching it fall to the ground in a million, glimmering, love sick pieces.”

Philip stares at them in horror, “Well what - what - what do I do?!” he asks desperately, “How do I fix this?!”

Frances frowns, then looks around, “Walk with me,” she says, holding her arm out; he takes it quickly, “We’re going to Fuddruckers so we can talk about this.”

“Don’t they tell the school when kids are skipping?!” Theo asks, matching their pace.

“You’re thinking of the Sonic, they call the school if kids come in, but the Fuddruckers does not.” Frances assures her, “I’ve been in there enough times to know, trust me.”

…

“Pip,” Frances says, reaching across the table once they’ve sat down, “I’m gonna be straight with you - ”

“None of us are straight.” Theo points out; Frances frowns and Philip smiles, but he seems a bit too preoccupied to laugh. He takes Frances’ hand and she sighs.

“You’re gonna have to be very careful about how you do this.” she tells him, “You’re salvaging the pieces of a broken heart and there’s no way to perfectly go about that.”

“The first step is to admit that you’ve fucked up.” Theo adds, and Philip nods, “Say it.”

He frowns, but complies, “I fucked up.”

“How,” Theo presses, “How did you fuck up?”

Philip huffs, “I slept with Georges…” she makes a motion for him to continue, “And then I slept with Patsy.”

“Which is bad _because..?”_ Frances adds, and Philip groans.

“It’s bad because Georges loves me and now I’ve broken his heart.” he says quickly, “Happy?”

“Very.” Theo nods, and Frances sighs.

“Philip,” she says, and he looks back to her, “You need to be... gentle with this. You’re not going to be able to fix this entirely.”

“What do you mean?” Philip asks, and Theodosia frowns.

“Pip - you slept with him while he’s in love with you and then immediately turned around and slept with someone else.” she tells him, “You’re a few steps past ‘friends’ and I don’t think you’re ever going to be able to go back to the way things used to be.”

Philip pulls a face and looks away from both of them; Frances squeezes his hand, “Pip, please don’t cry.” she says gently; he doesn’t look back up, “Pip, listen, you just - you need to apologize, first and foremost, before you do anything else.”

“It needs to be sincere,” Theo adds, “because he knows what you did wrong, but he needs to know that you know.”

Philip still isn’t looking at them, so Frances squeezes his hand again, “Pip?” he shakes his head, “Pip?” she tries again, and he takes a shaky breath.

“You really think I broke his heart?” he asks, looking back up at them; his eyes are red and his face is flushed.

“Yes,” Theo says, “There’s really no sugar coating it, Pip. If this happened to me, I know _I’d_ be heartbroken, and Georges has been smitten with you, like, forever.”

Philip blinks rapidly, and tears spill down his face; Frances squeezes his hand harder, “Pip, please don’t cry.” she says desperately, but Philip just shakes his head.

Theodosia starts to say something, but he isn’t listening anymore; he’s caught up in thinking about what he’s done. He’s known Georges since before he knew how to speak, and he’s never been anything but kind. They used to sit together on the bus in elementary school and they Skype for hours on end when Georges is in France and Philip was the first person Georges came to when he first began to realize he was gay.

Has Georges really been in love with him this whole time? He thinks back, he remembers every lingering touch and every little look and the kiss Georges gave him the morning they woke up together. Philip didn’t understand at the time why he was being so gentle, so sweet, so sentimental, but it falls into place now.

Philip loves Georges so much - he’s known him his entire life - and he’s losing him. He’s losing his best friend because he’s an idiot and he’s oblivious to all the signs. Every little thing Georges ever did to show his affection, like he wasn’t trying to be too obvious, but now that he thinks about it, if he had just paid a little more attention he probably would’ve kissed Georges years ago.

Holy fuck.

“Philip.” Theodosia snaps, hitting her hand gently on the table to get his attention; he jerks back into reality, “Are you listening to us?”

Philip gulps, “I - I - I - ” he shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts under control, “I - I need to talk to Georges - I need - ”

“No _shit,_ asshole,” Theodosia says, “You need to tell him you’re sorry - ”

“I need to tell him I love him!” Philip says abruptly, standing from his seat and looking around wildly.

“What?!” Theo and Frances shout at the same time.

Frances grabs his hand, “Philip - sit down - you will not lead that boy on any further than you already have - ”

“But I do!” Philip presses, “I do! I - fuck!” he throws himself back into his seat, “I swear I do! I have! Or - or if I don’t, I want to! I almost do!”

“Pip,” Frances snaps, “Look - this is great and all - but you have a lot of fucking damage control to do, because his heart is _still_ broken, and you’re little revelation isn’t going to fix that.”

“You still need to talk to him,” Theo says calmly, “But now you’ve got more work to do, because if you wanna be with him you’re gonna have to convince him to trust you again.”

“I need to talk to him now!” Philip says, standing back up.

Theodosia jumps up, “Oh no you don’t!” she says; Frances and Philip look at her like she’s insane, “Philip - we have an English test in an hour and you are the _shittiest_ at coming in to make up tests, Our work is fucking done here, and if we miss more than one period my dad is gonna notice and ask questions.”

“But - ”

“I don’t care if your dad doesn't know how to look at your attendance, Frances!” Theo snaps, “My parents do and they _will_ ask me about it! You can talk to him after school, Philip - buy him a bouquet, write him a poem, do something _romantic,_ I don’t _care_ \- we’re not missing that fucking English test."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swiggity swoe Pip is a hoe
> 
> Bwaaaa I hope you guys liked this chapter!! (☍﹏⁰) I hope it made up for how short the last one was bahaha. I'm so close to being done! Just one more chapter! This is the closest to finishing a fic I've ever been and I think I'm actually gonna do it! ٩(^ᴗ^)۶
> 
> Whoo boy let me tell you guys I hate the HTML coding so much. It's a labor of love. ( ˘ ³˘)
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of it! I love reading what you guys have to say it makes me blush and it puts me in a good mood for many days!! (*´∀｀*)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh it's the last chapter!!! I'm so excited!! I'm operating on about five hours of sleep because I was up until about two last night trying to get this out to you guys bahaha. （＾ｖ＾）
> 
> I've never finished a fic before! This is my first one! I'm very proud of it so that you all for reading! （；^ω^）
> 
> No revisions we post like men

Georges manages to make it all the way home before he starts to cry.

He gets home and to his room and throws himself on his bed, the same way Philip always does, and he cries. He cries until he thinks he might die and his heart aches so badly he’s not entirely convinced he won’t. His pillow has dozens of wet patches on it by the time he’s calmed down so he turns it over and pulls his duvet up over his head and tries not to think about how the bed still kind of smells like Philip’s cologne.

…

The only reason Philip stays in school all day is because Theodosia borderline threatens his life.

When the final bell rings he makes it out of the school in under two minutes; he doesn’t have a car so he takes the bus home and fidgets the entire time. He feels like he’s already wasted too much time; precious hours that he could have been using to win back Georges’ affections have instead been spent taking chemistry notes.

When he gets home Eliza is in the front room with Will, and she smiles at him, “Hi, Pip.” she greets warmly, “You’re not usually the first one home; did you have a good day?”

“It was okay,” Philip says, pausing by the staircase, “I - uh - I was just going to drop my backpack off. I have to go back out.”

“Where?” Eliza asks, and he bites his lip.

“I - uh…” he glances at his mom, who’s watching him expectantly, “I’m going to ask Georges out.” he tells her, which isn’t really a lie.

Eliza blinks, “Oh.” she says, obviously surprised, “Georges de La Fayette?”

“Yes.” Philip clarifies, and she looks down at William in her arms, then back up at him.

“Okay.” is all she says, and Philip turns away quickly and bolts up the stairs; when he returns without his backpack his mom is still staring off into space.

He passes her as he makes his way back to the front door, and he pauses behind the couch, “Ma?”

“Yes?” she asks immediately, looking back at him.

“You’re not upset are you?” he asks, and she frowns.

“No, honey, of course not.” she says gently, “I was just - surprised, is all. You walked in like you were on an important mission.”

Philip blushes, “I am.” he tells her, and Eliza smiles, “Wish me luck?”

“Of course.” she says, reaching her hand out towards him; he comes closer and hugs what he can reach of her from behind the couch. He places a kiss on her cheek before he straightens up and continues on his way.

…

Georges washes his sheets around noon because he can’t stand the smell of Philip’s cologne anymore.

…

Philip sits in the flower shop for nearly an hour with a pen in his hand and a blank note in front of him. The clerk has long stopped paying attention to him because he can’t think of anything to write down. Philip can’t put into words how he feels about Georges, or how ashamed of himself he is.

He ends up with the entire note covered in hearts on both sides because he can’t think of anything better. For once, his words are failing him, so he does the next best thing and draws. He fills the note with hearts until there’s no space for even one more, and then he tucks it into the prettiest bouquet of red roses he can find and buys them.

He holds them close to him the whole walk to Georges house, and by the time he gets there the sun is starting to set. He gulps; there’s only one light on in the entire house.

…

Georges is putting clothes up when he hears it.

It’s faint at first, so much so that he thinks he might’ve imagined it, but after a moment he hears it again. He hangs up the shirt he’s holding and walks out into his room and scowls.

Philip is clinging to his windowsill, a bouquet of roses held by the stems in his mouth; his face lights up when he sees Georges, and he reaches his hand up to tap on the window again before he scrambles to keep himself steady.

Georges opens the window angrily, “What the hell do you want?” he snaps, and Philip doesn’t even flinch.

“I nee’ ‘o ‘al ‘o ‘ou!” Philip tries to say, although the flowers hinder him more than they help; he leans forward in hopes that Georges will take the bouquet, but he just crosses his arms and looks away.

Philip leans forward to get a better grip on the window; once he has one, he takes the flowers out of his mouth and holds them out for Georges, “These are for you.” he says affectionately.

Georges frowns, “I don’t want your flowers.” he snaps, and Philip huffs.

“Okay, fine.” he says, but before he can continue Georges leans forward.

“Remind me what’s down there under my window?” he asks, and Philip grins.

“Your mom’s rose bushes.” he says innocently; Georges nods and reaches forward, placing his hands on Philip’s shoulders and shoving him backwards. Philip squawks, losing his one handed grip on the windowsill and falling out of sight.

Georges turns away from the window, guilt pooling in his stomach as he hears Philip fall in the bushes with a loud OOF. He expects him to leave, but a moment later the bouquet comes hurdling through the window and lands at Georges’ feet.

Philip comes clamoring back up to the window a few moments later looking significantly less amused, “I’m trying to be romantic, here.” he says, and Georges scoffs.

“Right, because nothing spells out ‘romance’ like sleeping with two different people in the same weekend.” Georges says bitterly, and Philip recoils.

“I’m actually here to talk to you about that.” he tells him softly, pulling himself through the window and landing on the floor with a small thud, “I was hoping you would hear me out?”

Georges doesn’t look at him, so Philip continues, “Okay - look - I know I kind of fucked up really bad, and I know…” he looks down, “Theo and Frances told me... you were... in love? With me?” he looks back up at Georges nervously.

He’s tapping his foot impatiently; his arms are crossed and he’s facing away from Philip silently. After a long moment, he shakes his head, “Continue.”

“Were they right?” Philip asks, and Georges squirms.

“Continue.” he repeats, and Philip nods.

“Right - so - I started thinking about it?” Philip says nervously, “And - um - I realized? I realized…” he trails off, leaning forward and picking the bouquet up off the ground; he holds it up to Georges, “I realized that I love you, too. And I shouldn’t have slept with you like it was no big deal - you are a big deal. You’re important to me, and the fact that I hurt you to make myself feel good kills me. I’m sorry.”

Georges stays quiet, so Philip continues, “I know I probably don’t deserve to have my feelings reciprocated, especially not after what I did. But if you could please…” he pauses, tears welling up in his eyes, “please, find it in you to forgive me, I would be more than grateful.”

Georges is silent, and Philip looks away, choking back a sob even as the tears start to fall, “I understand.” he says weakly, “I’d hate me, too. I’ll go.”

He moves to stand, but Georges reaches out and gentle grabs the edge of the bouquet; Philip freezes and wait, “...I don’t hate you.” Georges finally mutters, “I could never hate you - I’m just…” he sighs, “it really hurt, Philip. Thinking you were mine and then immediately being reminded that you weren’t anybody’s.”

“I want to be yours.” Philip pleads, “Please I - ”

Georges shushes him, so Philip falls quiet; slowly, Georges pulls the bouquet out of his hand and brings it into his arms. He pulls the note out of the middle and looks at both sides before dropping it back in.

When he turns to look at Philip, his face falls, “Why are you crying?”

Philip sniffles, wiping his tears away quickly, “I - I’m not.” he whispers, and Georges breath hitches in what almost sounds like a laugh.

“These are beautiful.” he remarks, taking in the flowers; they’re a bright red color, albeit a bit shabby, “Sorry for pushing you out my window.”

Philip’s shoulders shake in what Georges can’t decide is a laugh or a sob, “It’s okay. I deserved it.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Georges asks, and Philip shakes his head, “Good. Now stand up because I want to kiss you.”

Philip looks up at him then; his face is wet with tears and his eyes are full of disbelief, so Georges holds a hard out for him and helps him to his feet, “You’re so pretty.” he says softly, setting the bouquet on his bed and wrapping his arms around Philip’s waist; he smiles then, blushing through his tears, and Georges tilts his chin up and presses a sweet kiss to his waiting lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bwaaaaaaaa!!!! Okay here it is!!!! It's done!!! I'm honestly so proud of myself I've never done this before!! （´υ｀）
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read!! I hope you guys liked this!! I loved writing it!! I will definitely be writing more Hamilton stuff soon, because I've been in love with these characters for a while and I just haven't really gotten around to putting anything on paper. （´。｀)
> 
> Thank you for reading!! ♥(´⌣`ʃƪ)


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